Allowed
“Umm, aren’t you going to do something about that?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Martha. “He’s allowed to do that.”
I tried to control my distaste; it felt just wrong, but it wasn’t my dog, nor was it my house. Who was I to argue?
“Can I use your bathroon?” I asked.
“Sure, down the hall on the right.”
I closed the door behind me, locked it, then heard something moving. I pulled open the shower curtain, and there was the alligator.
I screamed for help as I tried to pry its jaws off my leg.
“She’s allowed to do that.”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment